Warm Body
by Agrajag
Summary: A sort-of re-write where R doesn't meet a girl called Julie, but meets a boy called Matthew. M/M Relationship. More info at bottom of Chapter 1.
1. Chapter 1

_I am dead, but it's not so bad..._

-o-

The insatiable hunger overtakes every cell in my body. I scurry around airport looking for M with an air of certainty in my strides.

I find him near the departure lounge staring at a wall; I join him.

"Hungry." I groan, studying the decaying yellowish-white walls covered with blood and grime.

M turns and stares at me.

"Just... ate." he breathes and turns to the wall again.

"City." I spit out, spraying the wall with the black liquid.

M groans and turns to me again.

"Such... fussy... child," he croaks.

I growl and turn away.

I guess I'll have to get it myself then.

-o-

_Grey soulless eyes stare, mouth dripping with death._

"_Dad?"_

_The monster lurches forward, sinking its teeth into my jugular vein._

-o-

Sanity Diary – Entry 001 – July

Dear Diary, my name is Matthew Bradley and I am alone.

That is the main reason as to why I am writing this. If I try to at least imitate communication, I may be able to stay sane for a little longer. It will also be a record of life during the "End of the World", just in case the world changes its mind and the human race pulls through.

I am 17 years old, but I'll be 18 at the end of this month. I don't know what today's date is, but I think it's mid-July.

It's currently night – I'd say around 1 a.m. – and I'm barricaded in the back of an abandoned 7-Eleven.

I also stink.

Not because I haven't washed in a few weeks (well, that has something to do with it), but because I'm covered in Death.

Death is the name I have given to what runs through the veins of the Dead; it drips from their mouths. It also has an interesting property. It hides the Living.

Smearing it over different parts of the body will completely hide your scent from them; it's a trick that my Dad taught me.

I will write more about my Dad another time, but not right now, I don't think I am ready.

I will write more soon.

I am Matthew Bradley and I am alone.

-o-

Sanity Diary – Entry 002 – July 28th

Well Diary, I am 18 today.

I discovered a house with electricity. It is on for about an hour at a time but cuts out regularly.

I found an old laptop which was useless as there was no internet connection, but on the plus side it told me the date. It is my birthday.

After a few hours of staying there, I noticed an old analogue television. I assumed all transmissions had ceased but I tried it anyway.

I tried all different frequencies until I found something. A voice.

It explained of a haven for survivors, an abandoned Stadium. It gave GPS coordinates which I noted down.

I cried, Diary, I'm not ashamed to say.

And here I am, sitting in the car writing this. I have entered the coordinates into the GPS and it says the Stadium is a 15 hour drive away.

Assuming I can find more petrol when it gets low and I don't run into any trouble, I should be there in about 3 days.

I'm so happy Diary. I just wish my Dad was here to come with me.

Now Diary, I promised I would tell you about my Father so I will.

Maxwell Bradley was his name. He was around my age when he became my Father. My Mother died when I was born so I don't know a lot about her, I only know that her name was Melissa which I always thought was a beautiful name.

But anyway, my Dad had always wanted to go into the Army like his own Father but never did because of me. This is probably why we both survived so long.

I was about 7 or 8 when the world ended, so I don't remember a lot about it. I just remember my Father teaching me things over the years; teaching me how to survive.

And we both did.

Well, until about a year ago.

He and I were hiding out in an abandoned bar after driving for around 4 hours. We had been pursued by a horde of the Dead; there were some pretty close scrapes, too close.

We were in the bar and I sat down at one of the tables, taking a protein bar from my backpack.

Dad went up to the bar and poured himself a whiskey. This was odd as he never drank because he said he didn't like his mind to be fuzzy.

He sipped it slowly and looked at me.

He walked over to table – it was then that I noticed his limp.

He sat down on the opposite chair to me and put down his drink. He took his backpack off and the rifle from his back and put them on the table.

I could see that he was sweating a lot.

He told me that it was time and I was so confused. Deep down I knew what he meant but I didn't want to know.

"I love you, son."

He grabbed his stomach, convulsing in pain.

I just stared, knowing what was happening.

His body stilled and he slumped in the chair.

Dead.

All that I could hear were my shallow breathes and the gentle breeze going by the window.

I put my hand on the cold metal of the rifle and picked it up. I had my own hand gun in my holster but I knew what he meant.

Death began to drip from his mouth onto his shirt.

Its head lifted slowly, grey eyes staring at me.

I stood up quickly and aimed the rifle with deadly precision; Dad always said I was a natural.

"Dad..." I whispered.

It began to stand up.

"Dad, please, please don't do this." I whimpered as I cocked the gun.

It continued to move towards me.

The trigger was waiting to be squeezed, just as he taught me.

"I love you too, Dad."

The millisecond before I pulled the trigger, the figure stopped, like it recognised the words.

But before I had time to process it, the body was splayed on the floor with a hole through its head.

I still didn't have time to think about it, the Dead would have most certainly heard the gunshot; I had minutes to get to the car. I grabbed the backpacks and a couple of other stuff from the bar and ran out to the car.

So that's the story of my Father.

I want to record this story on paper because it is the main evidence I have for the crazy theory that I have:

They can think. Or at least recognise things from their past selves.

I only kill them if absolutely necessary, which is probably strange to hear from someone in my position.

But enough about that; before I go, I'll just update you on my current situation.

Food levels – Okay. Got enough for about a week.

Water levels – Good as the house had a huge pack of bottled water.

Petrol – Good. Most the cars in the area had petrol in them to scavenge.

Sanity – Okay, I think.

Happiness – Exceptional.

I'm about to go and find the Stadium.

I am Matthew Bradley, I am 18, and I may not be alone for much longer.

* * *

A/N

Welp, I've finally plucked up the courage to write a Warm Bodies fic.

It's been over a year since I first read it and I've always wanted to rewrite the situation so R fell in love with a guy because:

a) it may be more accessible to some gay readers  
or  
b) it'd just be interesting

So since the movie is currently out in America and comes out in the U.K. on the 8th, I thought I should start writing.

There will be more of R in the next chapter.

I hope you enjoy it.

Reviews are appreciated. :D


	2. Chapter 2

Every molecule of my being hungers. This hunger has gotten more and more uncontrollable ever since I died. Eating flesh seems to sate it, but it comes back ever stronger.

What is it that I hunger for?

Flesh?

Brains?

... Life?

This question always enters my head when I hunt alone.

I drag myself through these streets in the vague hope that one time I won't have to kill; but I'm just so hungry.

After an hour or so, I finally sense something: the smell of life.

It is so potent that I'm already dragging myself faster along, black blood dripping from my mouth.

I stop myself though. There are too many of them. If they're armed I would be shot down to a full-dead.

I shuffle along again, my hunger even stronger now.

In the distance I can see the sunset; I've been searching for hours.

Walking along the pavement I see one of the Dead in a car. He must have converted in there and can't get out. If I help him out, it may show that I have some semblance of humanity and I'll become human and the world will magically return to normal.

Or I'll just stay the same.

I walk slowly towards the car, making sure not to startle it.

As I approach, I notice that it's staring at its knees which I can't see because of the car door.

It can't see me as I'm coming from an angle behind it and when I get close enough, I can see what it's doing.

It's writing.

_He's_ writing.

_He's alive._

How can I not smell him?

I see that his red dress shirt and blue jeans are covered in the black blood of the dead.

He's smart.

The way the pen in his hand glides over the paper makes the back of my head tingle.

I stare at it, the scribbles like blurry lines just out of focus.

I take another step forward and put my hand on the glass; I try to understand the symbols on the page but they slip through my conscious grasp and fade to nothing.

I eventually notice that the hand has stopped writing.

My eyes follow from his fingers to his wrist, up his bare arm to his elbow, up his clothed arm to his face.

Brown eyes stare at me; he doesn't look scared, he looks... amazed.

His facial features are sort-of blurred to me; another downside of being dead. Only the main things about him stick out: his clothes, his brown eyes and his short black hair.

He looks down at his little book then back at me and lifts it to the window.

I stare at it, my brows furrowing as I try to understand the swirling collections of ink on the page.

I give up and look defeated; he puts the book down still staring at me and rolls down the window a crack.

He hesitates before whispering.

"Can you understand me?"

I nod slowly.

His eyes widen and he faces forward; his breathing rate increases.

I stand and wait for him to calm down.

He looks back at me, his eyes wide in shock.

"Can you speak?" he whispers even quieter that before.

"A... little." I wheeze.

His head rocks back and he stares at the ceiling of the car, his breathing hitched.

What's causing this reaction? Am I so different from other zombies?

His breathing slows down and he looks back at me.

"... If I open the door, will you attack me?"

I think for a moment.

My hunger has subsided, probably because this has distracted me.

Also I wouldn't waste this chance to speak to a living person who's not scared.

"No." I reply.

"Cross your heart..." he mutters under his breath as he puts his book into a backpack, almost talking to himself.

"No." I say.

He looks at me again.

I lift my hand and make a cross motion on my forehead.

A small smile plays upon his lips.

"Cross your brain?" he asks suppressing a chuckle.

I nod.

He closes his eyes for a moment before opening the door slowly.

I take a few steps back so the door can fully open.

He slides out carefully holding his backpack, watching my every move.

When he stands up straight, I can see that he's around the same height as me.

He closes the door and we both stand watching each other.

The dusty breeze reminds me how lonely the landscape is.

"... Name?" I grumble.

He gives me another incredulous look.

"You really are something." he replies. "My name is Matthew. Do you have a name?"

"R."

* * *

A/N

Thank you for all the positive reviews so far!

Reply to Mary Ann's Review_:_  
_The petrol/gas thing never even crossed my mind, I'm an idiot, lol._  
_And the Dad/Father thing was intentional. I was trying to show that he was unsure whether to write formally or not._

But yeah, thanks again for all the positive feedback!

I'd love to hear what you all think of this chapter.

Shall update soon.

Hope you enjoy. :)


	3. Chapter 3

Sanity Diary – Entry 003 – July 30th

Diary, it has been a couple of days since we last conversed (even if it was a little one-sided), and a lot has happened which I shall write down now as I haven't slept in 24 hours and want to record before I pass out.

Last night as I was looking for a safe place to sleep, I came across a line of military vehicles. After checking the area was safe, I searched the trucks for any supplies.

They had all been ravaged by scavengers; but at the very inside corner of one of them, there was a small box that was left untouched.

It was full of carbtein!

There was enough in it that could easily keep me going for six months if I rationed them correctly.

So even if the venture to the Stadium is... unsuccessful, then I should be fine for a long while.

But speaking of the Stadium, as I have gotten closer, a weak radio signal has been picked up by my car's radio. It talks about the various-

Diary.

Something odd is happening.

A zombie is watching me write.

Strange.

Will write more soon.

M.B. 18

-o-

"... Rrrrr-, what?" asked Matthew. "Ross?"

The zombie shook his head.

"... Rick?"

"No." he grumbled.

"Robert?"

He shook his head again and looked as frustrated as a zombie could look.

"Rrrr-... Rrrrrrr-..." he growled.

"You're sure it began with an R?"

When he thought about it, he wasn't even sure that it did. And that terrified him.

So he shrugged.

"Well then why don't I call you R until you remember?"

He liked that idea.

So he shrugged.

Matthew laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation and looked at the sky. The off-blue colour looked back at him with mild disinterest.

"Also don't think I'm some dumb kid you can fool by talking," he said looking back at R. "I'm armed and I'm pretty fucking fast."

He pointed at the holster on his hip and R nodded.

There was silence as they stared at each other. Matthew swayed slightly, the sleep deprivation getting to him.

"Right, I'm going to find shelter for the night. Come if you want. If you try anything I'll do something unpleasant like shoot you in the face."

R nodded again.

"Bang." he groaned out.

"Yes, bang." Matthew agreed as he collected some cubes of carbtein from the box in the passenger seat and put it in his backpack.

He locked the vehicle and began to walk away, the dusty ground scratching under his feet; R looked around and quickly scuffled behind him.

-o-

They were both silent as they searched.

Matthew eventually found an abandoned gun store which attracted him not because of the obvious, but because of the barred windows and the thick metal door.

The door lay open and Matthew slipped in and searched the building for the Dead. It was clear.

He knew it was pointless searching the back rooms for weapons but he did it anyway. The Almighty force which drives the universe may finally look his way, smile, and give him the help he needs.

The Almighty force scoffed and occupied itself with some supernovae.

He was lucky enough to find a small pack of the correct ammo for his handgun.

As he walked by main area of the shop, he saw R standing outside the front door.

"Well are you coming in?" he shouted as he looked for something to barricade the door with.

"You... sleep." Matthew heard the breathy grunt from the door.

"Yeah?" he replied from the back rooms as he eyed a bulky storage cabinet.

"I'm... dead."

"Yeah, I know that," he grumbled as he dragged the cabinet into the main room. "I'm still coming to terms with the fact."

"You... still... want..." Matthew saw R gesturing to him then himself.

"What?" he asked as he didn't understand the gestures.

R took a deep phlegmy breath.

"Me... come... in?" he asked, repeating the gestures.

Matthew nodded.

"Why not?"

"I'm... dead." he reiterated.

"Well, you've been a good little zombie so far and not tried to eat me, you're the first person I've spoken to in nearly a year plus I've got some questions to ask you," he explained. "Oh, and also..." He lifted the side of his red shirt up to show the gun in the holster. "So yeah, come in."

As Matthew lifted the stained shirt up, all of R's senses flared.

The exposed skin of Matthew's hip made his mind numb.

But then the fabric dropped and R was back in the real world.

Matthew never noticed as he was beginning to haul the metal cabinet towards the door.

R plodded inside and waited in the middle of the room for the door to be barricaded.

With one final push, it was in place.

Matthew yawned and looked over at R.

"C'mon, let's go to the back room."

-o-

"So there's a line here for the back, then a curve which goes half way down, and then it goes down diagonally. That's an R. Simple."

R looked at the paper and shook his head for the fifth time.

They both sat facing each other on Matthew's makeshift bed which consisted of his sleeping bag lying over a pile of paper towels from the cleaner's closet. It was surprisingly comfortable.

"Right, give me your hand."

Matthew grabbed R's hand – his breath hitching a little as he felt how cold it was – and put the pen between his fingers.

He used R's hand to write an R upside down so R himself could read it but R couldn't read the R so R got frustrated.

"Maybe it's like being a child again," Matthew suggested. "You have to learn to understand it all over again."

R nodded solemnly.

They had been talking and writing for nearly half an hour.

Most of Matthew's questions like "What do you remember?" and "Why are you so different?", mostly got dismissed by R's incessant shrugs.

"Right R, time for me to sleep," he began before wondering. "... do you sleep?"

R shook his head.

"I didn't think so."

He got up and checked all the rooms again. They were still clear.

He returned to the backroom with R still sitting at the foot of the bed.

"Uh... could you look away or something?" he asked.

R's brows furrowed in confusion but he closed his eyes.

As he wondered what Matthew was doing, the mad endorphin rush of senses smacked him in the face. His eyes shot open to see the man taking his shirt off.

Looking over Matthew's toned body put his brain into shock.

He jumped up and tackled Matthew to the ground, pulling his shirt back down to hide the scent.

Matthew's hands instinctively went for the holster but R pinned them to the floor.

"Scent!" he half shouted/half croaked.

He held Matthew's arms in place until he calmed down.

"What do you mean?" he spluttered out as he came down from the adrenaline rush.

"Smell... life...," R whispered back. "Skin."

He finally understood.

R let go of his arms but didn't budge from on top of him.

Matthew's breaths were shallow and R's breaths were non-existent.

This close to the man, R could smell him from the collar of his shirt. His face was covered with black blood so the smell was hidden.

R placed his hand under Matthew's chin and felt the blood flowing through him.

His hand slipped down lower and undid the first button of Matthew's shirt.

The smell was intoxicating.

He moved his hand down to his own thigh and put his hand into a recently inflicted wound. The hand collected some of the black substance that courses through his veins and brought it back up to Matthew's neck.

His hand slipped into the top of Matthew's shirt, spreading the liquid over the top of his chest. He shivered at the cold touch of R's hand.

His own hand came up and grabbed R's.

"Why?" The word slipped gently by his lips. "You could have killed me... Why are you helping me?"

R continued to rub the black mess into Matthew's chest as he undid more buttons.

"You... help." he whispered softly.

He finished undoing the buttons

"You... talk.

"You... hope.

"You... write.

He used both hands, caressing Matthew's chest, smearing the life-suppressing goop all over his torso.

"You... live."

Matthew's whole front torso was covered, concealing the scent. R's hands rested on either side of his abdomen.

R came down from his high and just sat there on Matthew's thighs.

Matthew just lay there looking up at him, his eyelids half closed.

"R..." he whispered before the clutches of sleep snatched him away.

* * *

A/N

EXTREMELY sorry for the ridiculously long wait for this chapter.  
Life and stuff has been getting in the way. I wanted to update you all but had no means of doing so.  
To avoid this, I've created a Tumblr so I can post updates and sneak-peeks etc.  
My username is 'agrajagff', the link is in my FF bio.

But yeah, VERY sorry for the long wait. Real life is annoying.

Shall update soon. (and I mean that.)

Thanks for reading.

Reviews are loved. x


	4. Chapter 4

Matthew's eyes slid open to see a wide gray ceiling. For a moment his mind was fuzzy trying to recall where he was.

The memories of the gun shop and R slipped into place in his brain.

He tilted his head to the side to see if the dead man was still with him. The room looked empty.

His head rolled back to its original position to stare at the ceiling again.

There was a little movement beneath the bottom of his legs.

He lifted his head to look down.

R was sitting at the bottom of the makeshift bed with his back against the wall and Matthew's legs lying on his thighs. He was staring straight ahead as if he was dead.

Which of course he was.

"R?" Matthew whispered, making himself wince as his throat was so dry.

R's head turned to look at Matthew.

"Mmmm-...Mmmaatth-...Mmmmaathu-" he attempted to reply.

The living man smiled pitifully at the dead man.

"You can just call me Matt."

R thought for a moment.

"Mmmm-...," He frowned. "Mmmmatt. Mmmatt... Matt."

Matt grinned.

"There you go." he encouraged as he buttoned up his shirt.

"Matt." R repeated.

The man lifted himself up and sat next to R

He was about to ask R some questions when the lights started to flicker.

"Do you know what time it is?" he asked.

"...Dark." R replied after thinking for a moment.

The lights cut out. They were in complete darkness as there were no windows.

"Could you pass me my bag? It's at the foot of the sleeping bag."

Matt heard R's hand rustling about for the bag.

He soon felt it being placed on his knees.

He whispered his thanks as he opened it and got out the laptop he took from the abandoned house.

He opened it and switched it on; it cast an artificial glow upon their faces.

"This should last us for a couple of hours and it should be light outside by then." He checked the time on the laptop to make sure he was correct. He was.

He looked over to R and noticed his pale skin looked even whiter from the light of the laptop.

His eyes were also deep in concentration like they were when they were trying to read Matt's writing.

Matt opened a blank document so the screen was white and put it on the floor so the glow illuminated the part of the room where they were.

"We've got time to kill, then." he sighed.

He slid and lay back down, staring at the ceiling.

He looked back up at R and patted next to him, inviting him to lie down.

Slowly but surely, R got from under Matt's legs to crawl over and lie next to him.

Matt turned to face R as he stared upwards.

He studied R's features. They were soft yet masculine. If he weren't dead, Matt would consider him to be quite handsome.

Matt shook his head to get rid of those thoughts.

"What's it like... you know, being dead?" he asked quietly.

R made a shrugging motion which looked odd as he was lying down.

"Lonely..." he groaned.

Matt frowned at the utter dejection in R's voice.

"Aren't there others like you?"

"A few... but... still lonely."

He closed his eyes and his face contracted slightly as if he was wincing.

Had Matt upset him?

"Hey," Matt rubbed R's arm. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings or anything." He was unsure if that's what he had done.

"No," R grunted. "Fine. Just... lonely."

"I know how you feel," he whispered, almost to himself as he stared at his hand. "I've been alone for a long time. I guess we're both pretty similar."

He looked up to see R looking at him.

R lifted his hand towards Matt, his fingers outstretched.

Matt moved his own hand towards R's and laced his fingers through the dead man's.

Their hands were locked together until Matt fell asleep again. He could have sworn R's hand felt a little warmer. Possibly because he's been in shelter and warmed up a bit.

But only possibly.


	5. Chapter 5

_It was like watching an old 35mm film he thought as he tried to make his eyes focus. Shapes and shadows swam across his vision._

"_Who's there?" he shouted to the shapes. He noticed that his voice was clearer._

"_It's me, of course," replied the shapes. "You're dreaming."_

_He felt a pair of hands slide by his hips, pulling him into an embrace._

_Lowering his head, he inhaled the scent of the stranger and recognised the distinct aroma._

"_Matt." he whispered._

"_Bingo."_

_He continued to drink in the intoxicated smell. "Aren't you gonna eat me?" Matt teased._

_R shook his head._

"_This is enough."_

_Matt pulled back just as R's eyes focused on his decaying face._

"_Shame." he said before tearing out R's windpipe._

-o-

His eyelids slid open, adjusting to the sudden rush of light. He stared upwards to allow himself to return back to reality.

R sometimes dreamt but his dreams were usually little more than whispers and mumbles of his past life.

He crooked his neck to look at Matthew but no one was next to him.

Momentarily falling about by trying stand up, R scanned the room to see that Matthew and all of his belongings were nowhere to be found.

"Matt?!" he wheezed out as he felt something not totally unlike panic.

He stumbled into the main room of the shop and saw that the cabinet had been shifted to the side and the door was open.

Now he was panicking.

The sunlight lit up the deserted street and shone in his eyes as he ran out. His stumbling turned into a deformed run as he headed for the car.

Why had Matt been so stupid? He's probably dead... or worse.

"Hey, where are you going?!" said a voice to his left.

R nearly fell on his face as he stopped to turn to see Matthew standing in the door of a convenience store.

"Thought... you... dead..." he groaned as he shuffled towards Matthew.

"Nah," he replied as he grinned and held up a tin of beans. "Just checking if they had anything worth looting, which-"

R swung his arms around him and held him tightly. Matthew stood there holding the beans, not sure what to do.

"Thought...you...," R whimpered into the crook of his neck. "Dead."

"Hey, c'mon now, it takes a lot to kill me." he assured R as he returned the hug with his free hand.

"Lonely... forever." he barely whispered. Matthew almost never heard him. He rubbed R's back as he was unsure or what else to do. In his mind he smiled as he realised how ridiculous this situation would look to any of the Living.

Or the Dead.

"Come on R, look at me."

He tilted his head back and looked at Matthew. R looked like a defenseless puppy to Matthew, and not the killing machine he actually was. His eyes were slightly red.

He dropped the beans onto the dusty ground next to him and lifted his hands and cupped R's face.

"Do you seriously think I would have done that? Gone and left you without a second thought?"

Shrug.

His expression still reminded Matthew of a wounded animal.

He pulled R forward a little and kissed his cheek. The skin was cool against his lips.

"Right, come on, help me with some of this stuff." he said as he let go of R and turned to go back into the store.

R stood there for a little while, touching his cheek. He felt heat rising up them.

He was blushing.

Blushing required blood flow.

Blood flow meant-

"Are you gonna help me or are you just gonna stand there all day?"

He snapped out of his thoughts and dragged himself into the store to help Matthew.

-o-

"Just put it there. Thanks." said Matthew before closing the trunk. He patted R's shoulder before getting into the driver's seat.

R stood around awkwardly before Matthew opened the door on the passenger's side. Taking this as a sign, he climbed in.

They sat in silence as R watched Matthew pick at his nails, clearly deep in concentration.

"What wrong?" he asked quietly.

Matthew didn't immediately look up, but when he did he regretted it as he saw R's inquisitive eyes look at him sadly.

"There is colony that I'm travelling to. A colony of the Living," explained Matthew to which R nodded. "But if you came, R, they'd destroy you." he finished with a whisper.

R nodded again.

"Because I'm dead."

"Because you're dead."

R touched his cheek.

"And you're alive... because blood runs... through your veins?"

Matthew frowned.

"Well, kinda, yeah, and I have a heartbeat."

R slid his fingers around Matthew's wrist and lifted his hand to his face.

His brows furrowed as he cupped R's cheek. "But... your cheek is warm... how is your cheek warm?" He slid his hand down to R's chest. No heartbeat. "But how-"

"I blushed." he said levelly.

Matthew stared at him, beginning to smirk slightly.

"You blushed?"

"You kissed my cheek and I blushed." he replied without pausing.

Matthew's smirk disappeared. His hand remained on R's chest.

"Why did it make you blush?" he asked.

"You mean a lot, so when you did it my body reacted to you," he explained. "You give me life, Matt."

They looked at each other for a second before Matthew leaned in and kissed R on the lips.

Warmth began to trickle across R's face from his lips and slivered down his back down to the tips of his toes like electricity. It spread from his back to all along his arms and up to his fingers which caused them to tingle. His whole body was warm apart from his chest but all of the heat began to converge there. Matthew felt the change under his hand as he kissed R. He also felt something else.

He felt R's heart _beat._

_And beat._

_And beat._

_And beat._

* * *

A/N

I don't think I can express how sorry I am for my lack of updates.  
There's been a lot of changes in my life right now and I've been adjusting and I haven't had any time to write, but here it is! Unbelievably sorry for the long wait.

So, this is the end! I hope you guys enjoyed it!  
This won't be my last story with R and Matthew, I'm definitely going to be writing a sequel about the Stadium, etc. I won't spoil too much.

But all you need to know is that his name is Matthew Bradley, he is 18, and he is most certainly not alone.


End file.
